Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Armenia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Eurythmics to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Adolescents,
Morten Harket,
the Sonics,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Selecter,
Surgeon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Saccharine Trust,
Joensuu 1685,
Newcleus,
Oneida,
Dark Day,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fortunes,
Depeche Mode,
PIL,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Almond,
Siglo XX,
Ken Boothe,
Tom Boy,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Associates,
Soft Cell,
Pantaleimon,
Pagans,
The Gun Club,
Basic Channel,
Rosa Yemen,
Subhumans,
Soft Machine,
Erasure,
The Five Americans,
Sun Ra,
The Black Dice,
Judy Mowatt,
Leonard Cohen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moby Grape,
Animal Collective,
Parry Music,
Dead Boys,
Aswad,
Radiopuhelimet,
Boz Scaggs,
The Monochrome Set,
Lou Christie,
The Gladiators,
Donny Hathaway,
Ronnie Foster,
Quadrant,
The Residents,
Q65,
Lightning Bolt,
Agent Orange,
Joy Division,
Davy DMX,
The Walker Brothers,
Kurtis Blow,
Derrick Morgan,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.